Keep your hands off our Whataburgers | Opinion

The Whataburger on Thomasville Road is practically a landmark.(Photo: Karl Etters/Democrat)

While Texans are mourning the sale of their beloved, iconic 24/7 burger institution, we here in Tallahassee are grieving as well.

On May 21, the Tallahassee Democrat ran a story about the Texas-based chain Whataburger hiring Morgan Stanley to look at options for expansion and the possible sale of a “minority stake” in the company. Fast forward only a couple of weeks, and a Chicago-based private equity firm named BDT Capital Partners has in fact purchased a majority stake in the company, and is already reshaping Whataburger’s future.

The news caught my attention when an article ran in the New York Times claiming Texans were not just up in arms about the sale, they were practically grabbing their firearms in protest.

“I have had some cases in Chicago,” said Texas attorney Dick DeGuerin. “It’s a beautiful city right there on the lake. I’ve had some very pleasant experiences with some of the lawyers from up there. But get your hands off our hamburgers.”

With all due respect to Texas, Tallahassee's also got a burger in this fight.

I grew up in this town, which is home to five Whataburgers, including the hard-to-miss orange and white A-frame landmark in Midtown. Those 24-hour drive-throughs with their burgers, fries and oversized shakes have comforted me and my family and friends for decades.

The Whataburger in Midtown is often called The Historic Whataburger by folks in the neighborhood.(Photo: State Archives of Florida/Florida Memory)

Back when I was a teenager at Florida High in the early '70s, we would sneak out to grab lunch at the Whataburger at the corner of Ocala and Tennessee. We hoped our teachers wouldn’t have the same idea and catch us skipping out — but reasoned that, if they did, they’d admire our good taste and let it slide.

Then there were late-night joy rides from the Paradise Grill, the restaurant and bar I owned for years. Paradise wasn’t open 24 hours, but Whataburger sure was. After a busy evening, I’d corral a few friends, load them into the bed of my pickup and head over for a round of midnight burgers.

I still go to the Whataburger in Midtown a few times a week. Often I’ll run into my old friend Bob Dean, the former magistrate and real estate developer who goes there so frequently that they named a salad after him. (It’s not on the menu, but just ask.)

I don’t go to Whataburger for the salads, but these days I’m watching my waistline by steering clear of the big burger and instead ordering a No. 6, the Whataburger Junior, with the addition of an extra beef patty.

What we’d like to say to those finance guys up in Chicago: Don’t forget about Tallahassee. Don’t mess with our burgers. Don’t touch our breakfast taquitos. And, whatever you do, don’t mess with a Florida magistrate’s salad.

If you and your Windy City investors want to know what’s really at stake, come pay us a visit. I’ll introduce you to some of your longtime customers, and we’ll help you understand why it’s ain’t just Texas you don’t want to mess with.

Who knows? If you’re extra nice, I might even treat you to a No. 6 with a double meat patty, small fries and Diet Coke on the side.

Fincher Smith is a third generation Tallahasseean, a long-time restaurateur, former real estate developer, and current agent with Coldwell Banker Hartung and Noblin.